


Post-Graduate

by Lyssandra_Med



Series: One-Shot [68]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/F, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssandra_Med/pseuds/Lyssandra_Med
Summary: Hermione and Pansy have a bucket list.It's somewhat fitting that their last item to cross off finds them snogging in the hallway closet.Or; Pansmione / Bellamione / Bellansy(?), Student / Teacher
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Series: One-Shot [68]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429282
Comments: 18
Kudos: 97





	Post-Graduate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamkissed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamkissed/gifts).



> No-Edit

There was something absolutely delicious about finding herself shoved into a broom closet, warm hands pawing at her breasts and a smile lacing her features. 

Pansy smirked, dark and sharp, clearly willing to ravish her here where anyone at all could find them. Find them -  _ even though Hermione was sure no one would, this little space was just too far out of the way _ \- and report them. Not that anyone could  _ really _ report them. Graduation had occurred just the night prior and now that she and Pansy had their degree there was nothing that anyone could do to them. After all, the University certainly wouldn’t want to mess with their dual valedictorians.

Still, the mere  _ thought _ of danger was enough to make her wet, and Pansy was so very, very eager to lick that up. Sweetness coated her cheeks as she buried her tongue up to the hilt within Hermione’s sex, eager to please and eager for release.

One pleasant gasp, a sharp bite on Hermione’s thigh, a trail of sharp nails on skin. Hermione was coming undone and to halt the scream she knew was welling up within her chest she forced herself to bite deep onto her knuckles. Pansy wouldn’t be denied though, and she seemed determined to leave Hermione a puddle of warm emotions and wet release.

And then she was shoving her fingers against that  _ one _ spot deep within Hermione that she  _ knew _ would end up leaving her a mess.

By all the gods she was burning up, heated to the point of melting and Pansy seemed absolutely certain she could make Hermione ride throughout it. Hermione wasn’t exactly sure she could remain conscious for all of it but she tried, grasped at Pansy’s shortened hair, scratched deep against her scalp and neck, that little spot behind her ears that Hermione  _ knew _ would drive the woman wild.

There was a moment where Hermione wondered where her knickers had gone, one blip of thought that disappeared when she realized she didn’t really care. Likely they’d been discarded to languish amongst the cleaning supplies, dropped along with her skirt to be found later when they were done. Pansy didn’t care, she was still between Hermione’s legs and then a hand was prying at the buttons of her uniform, bra pulled away as expert hands pinched a hardened bud.

_ ‘Fuck it,’ _ Hermione thought, preferring to ride Pansy for all that she was worth.  _ ‘I’ll find them later.’ _

But later might not come -  _ unlike her _ \- if Pansy tried to keep her here any longer. The woman seemed determined to make Hermione pass out, her pace quickening even as she felt the friction of a burn begin to form. 

And then nothing. 

Pansy shifted, pulled away and lifted her own skirts. There was a moment of awkward positioning before Hermione found herself staring up the long legs of her girlfriend, nowhere to go and nothing -  _ no one _ \- else to do. Pansy stared down and grinned a devilish smile, ran her fingers through Hermione’s long hair in time with the panting of their breath. It was a harsh stance and Hermione found herself frightened just for a moment before the harshness of her need descended yet again.

Lust, fresh love, and no small amount of want were swirling around her mind. Three years of University had been Hell on earth until the two of them had realized where all their pent up aggression came from, just  _ why _ they buzzed with energy when cornered in the halls or partnered together in labs.

Simple on reflection but at the time it had been  _ maddening. _

“You think Professor Black would like this, hm?” Pansy questioned in between laboured breaths, her voice uneven and halting. “I think she’d  _ love _ to be riding your face, Hermione. Perfect student, perfect little fuck. Gods, don’t you fucking stop.”

Hermione wouldn’t have dreamt of it. If anything her pace began to increase, tongue burning and jaw aching as she pushed Pansy to completion. The girl was writing atop her, practically steaming from the movement-

“Girls.”

Pansy screamed. 

Hermione fell on her ass, awkwardly grabbing at Pansy as she slid down towards the floor.

“Hm. I believe the school closed about an hour ago. You two should have been off to your dorms, or home. But, well, since you’re not…” Professor Black’s voice trailed off, her dark eyes taking in them both as a sly curve of her lips invaded the smile on her face.

Hermione stared, aghast at the situation -  _ if not a little bit turned on _ \- and lacking any words. They’d both know this was a danger and Professor Black always  _ had _ been a good topic of theirs. Raven-haired, tall and full of curves that caught their eyes. A biting laugh, gentle smile, and a voice that brokered no interruption or disturbance.

She was beautiful and intimidating in the best of ways.

“Alright then. Make yourselves decent, then come to my office. And make it snappy, will you? I don’t care for students being tardy.”

Professor Black turned around and shut the door behind her, leaving Pansy and Hermione to stare at one another with incredulity written clearly on their faces.

\---

When they arrived each woman had an excuse ready to use, Bellatrix could tell, could imagine what they’d say.

But she didn’t exactly care for excuses. Hated them, actually. She denied all of her pupils any chance to give them.

She knew she should have expected something like this when she heard the soft sounds rolling through the closet door. Both of them were far too friendly in class to be anything other than lovers, or perhaps some lesser form of relationship. And more than once this year she had caught them passing notes to one another, stares that led to flushed faces when they looked up from their work. 

Flushed faces whenever they looked at  _ her.  _ She should have expected hearing them say  _ that _ from through the door.

But she hadn’t. Did it even matter? They were grown women now, graduated and on the cusp of joining the real world. 

They were an odd pair. Same birthday, the same hatred of one another turning into something stronger than adoration.

Cute, in a sickly sweet sort of way.

“Well then?” she asked them, voice a gavel in the cramped quarters of her office. “What’ve you got to say for yourselves?”

Bellatrix watched them both as they paled, standing and shivering against one another’s shoulders. The silence continued to reign until Pansy’s face lit up in mischief, warm eyes turning positively devilish.

“Well, Professor Black, we were hoping that we could cross something off our bucket list.”

Bellatrix quirked her head, “Bucket list? Really? Well, what else is on that list of yours? Frigging on the roof? The Chapel?”

Hermione grew beet red at that, shivering and gulping as she reached out and grasped tightly onto Pansy’s hand.

“Done and done. With what you saw there’s only one thing left.” Pansy held her chin high in the air, her eyes defiant in a way that Bellatrix had come to know quite well. The girl was positively stubborn to a fault, willing to push past every boundary she could until something gave way or she couldn’t push any more.

Bellatrix enjoyed the girl’s tenacity. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d been wandering these hallways with an attitude that quite similar to that.

“Well? What is it?”

“Hm,” Pansy hummed, turning to grin wickedly at Hermione. “It’d be easier if we gave you a practical demonstration, I believe.”

That was an unexpected answer. 

To a certain degree, at least. She’d certainly thought about it once or twice but never seriously enough to make that mistake. They were her pupils and she’d had no desire to embroil herself in a scandal.

But  _ now _ they weren’t exactly students…

“Hermione, would you mind showing Professor Black what we had left?”   


Bellatrix didn’t miss the emphasis that Pansy placed upon her title, a lowly Professor she might have been but the word was said with such reverence that it burned. Hermione, for her part, simply nodded and pulled away from Pansy’s side.

Moved to Bellatrix.  _ Looked _ at Bellatrix.

“Stop her whenever you’d like Professor, we’ve no desire to harm.”

Bellatrix acknowledged Pansy’s words with a tilt of her head, eyes glued to Hermione’s fluid movement. She was walking dreamlike, slow and sauntering where before she’d simply been putting on the air of a frightened doe. 

Bellatrix felt her cheeks reddened. She could guess where this would lead. She’d never been put in  _ this _ position before. Yes, there had been students clamouring to do  _ something _ for a better grade, and yes she had other faculty fawning over her as if she were the last woman alive.

But this?

Hermione stumbled the last bit forward, that sense of self-assuredness that she’d brought with her fading in the distance from Pansy. 

But she completed it.

Leaned in and captured Bellatrix’s lips. Soft, slow, and with just a hint of something more.

Bellatrix found herself drowning, lost and unsure of what to do, no knowledge of  _ how _ to do anything at all.

Then it passed and heat took hold within her heart, within her core. She remembered where these lips had been. She knew what she had seen.

Bellatrix surged forward into Hermione, claimed her lips with tongue and teeth as she stood and bent the girl beneath her height.

“You,” she commanded Pansy, ears suffused with Hermione’s mewling whine when she pulled away. “Get over here,  _ now.” _


End file.
